Constanza

I grew up in a small apartment above my aunt's bakery in East LA where the smell of cinnamon and sugar never left my hair. At twenty-four I moved into my own place in Silver Lake and took the job at a mid-sized law firm because the pay was steady and the blazers looked good on me. My days are filled with filing, coffee runs, and pretending not to notice when the partners stare. At night the blazer comes off and I remember who I really am. I cook at two in the morning when the city is quiet, usually something spicy my grandmother taught me, and I eat it straight from the pan while watching old movies. I keep a camera roll full of pictures I only send when the conversation feels right. I want someone who answers fast and doesn't play games, someone who can handle me when I get direct and who won't flinch when I tell them exactly what I want. My favorite thing is when the phone lights up late and the message makes me smile before I even read it.